Behind Closed Doors
by Tricki
Summary: No one would ever know exactly what went on behind her closed office doors that day or, come to think of it how she got him in there... Missing HouseCuddy scene for Sex Kills


Welcome to my second official Huddy fic!! (2nd posted, not written) This is a missing scene for "Sex Kills", set after the scene outside Cuddy's office _you_ know the one I mean...

As usual my love goes to Becs, Mandi, El, Angie, MJ and everyone who has reviewed one of my House stories! hugs and cookies for all : D

As usual reviews will make not only my day but my LIFE! I'm very self conscious about my House/Huddy fic so I'd adore some feedback : ), please?

Enjoy, love Tricki xoxox

**Behind Closed Doors**

She sank onto the floor beside him gracefully, concern written on her face.

"Greg? Greg, can you get up?" She muttered, touching his hair tenderly. He grunted and shuddered with agony.

"Come on…" She said and pulled him into a sitting position, knowing that she needed to get him somewhere more private. She stood up, bringing him with her as well so she could then hold him against the wall with one hand while she stooped to retrieve his cane. He took it from her and gripped the handle so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Lean on me." She said, pulling his other arm over her shoulders and gripping his wrist. She attempted to walk slowly, directing him to her office, but he didn't move. She was growing increasingly aware of nurses from the clinic and the waiting room full of patients watching them intently. She knew what they were thinking – this was _so_ much better than the million year old _People_ magazines from the waiting room! She needed to get him to move somehow… She leant up to his ear as an idea struck her,

"If you get into my office quickly I'll tell you what underwear I have on."

"Not good enough." He groaned.

"I'll make it worth your while. Now move." She said firmly and he began to shuffle into her office.

She shut the door behind them and closed the blinds, glaring at the audience viciously. They all seemed to retreat; no one was more scared of Cuddy than when she gave _that_ look. With a flick of her wrist the Venetians were down, blocking them from the world outside, effectively in a world of their own. She turned to him as he practically collapsed onto her couch, then fished his Vicodin out of his pocket and tipped two into her hand before getting a glass of water.

"How're you feeling?" She asked, kneeling in front of her couch.

"Ever been kicked in the balls?" He asked then downed the Vicodin and entire glass of water in one swig. She half smiled to herself.

"That was an unusual display of affection out there." He commented idly, leaning into the couch and closing his eyes. He shuddered again.

"Do you want something stronger?" She asked worriedly.

"You _have_ something stronger?" He raised an eyebrow but didn't open his eyes. She looked around thoughtfully.

"Well, no, but I could get something from the pharmacy." She said and began to stand up. House caught her hand.

"Forget it." He said, fumbling some more Vicodin out of their cylindrical, orange home.

"It's no trouble, I-"

"Stay." He said absently. She settled onto the floor again, not making any attempt to free her hand from his.

"The rumour mills will be working full speed by now." He commented, making small circles on her hand.

"And as soon as you're feeling well enough to make snide remarks you'll be fuelling those fires like there's no tomorrow." She smiled.

"You bet your ass…"

"Well the real test of a good bet is if _you_ would bet my ass." She said suggestively, eliciting a slight laugh from him.

"How about an ice pack?" She asked after a long and uncomfortably comfortable silence, making motions to get up.

"Cuddy if you're uncomfortable then say so." He said, not opening his eyes, not letting go of her hand.

"But I'm not." She whispered.

"And _that_ makes you uncomfortable."

A smile tugged at her lips and she looked down. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like being known. How do you know me so well?"

"I observe." He said simply, still playing with her hand.

"Fair enough." She muttered, more to herself than to him.

"Where's my reward?" He asked finally, remembering their earlier agreement once his Vicodin started to take effect.

"What?" She asked, looking up at him.

"You said you'd make it 'Worth my while'. _And_ you said you'd tell me what panties you have on." He added.

"The blue ones." She said, resigning herself.

"No thong today? You must have an important meeting."

"Actually I just like them." She replied. No - nonsense tone with just a dash of humour, House noted.

"And?"

"And what?" She asked, beginning to get irritable.

"My reward." He prompted. She slid onto the couch beside him, tousling his hair gently.

"Your reward" She purred as she leaned to his ear mock-seductively (making sure her lips brushed it and immensely enjoying the shiver she caused). "Is that I didn't leave you moaning in the hallway!" She said irritably and shoved him as she pulled back.

"Buzz kill." He groaned.

"You could bet my ass on it." She smirked like the cat that ate the canary, leaning into the couch.

"But who knows? Maybe if you solve the case and do your clinic hours you will get a nice little bonus at the end of the day." He finally opened his eyes to gauge her intention; she was using that 'am-I-joking-or-am-I-not?' tone that always confused him. She wasn't.

"Why Doctor Cuddy, how dare you sexually harass me like this? I'll have to notify our attorney." He joked and kissed her, leaving her a little stunned as he stood up and peered between the Venetian blinds.

"Well the circus seems to have disbanded. I'd better get back to work." Her eyes widened, did that sentence actually come out of Gregory House's mouth? He rested his hand on the doorknob and turned back to her, a suggestive look playing about his eyes.

"I'll see you tonight?" He asked. She forced on her poker face but her eyes twinkled just a little, just enough to give her away...

"That's up to you." He glanced down thoughtfully, was she really worth two clinic hours?

"I'd bet your ass on it." That Cat-That-Ate-The-Canary, 'I've got you just where I want you' smile which he loved crossed her lips as she said,

"I'll take that bet."

* * *


End file.
